by Jada Fisher
She nodded, already slipping away. She just hoped once more that she didn’t awaken to bad news.
“So, I guess that wasn’t just a nightmare, huh?”
Ukrah’s tongue laid heavy in her mouth. It ended up being three full days before she was allowed to see Marcellin, and she only got a full explanation on the second day because she had threatened to storm his room herself.
His injuries were severe. Beyond losing his limbs, several ribs had been broken, turning inward to stab into his important innards. His head had taken several hard blows as well, all of which were serious on their own, but in concert had bordered on lethal. If he hadn’t been a vessel, Ukrah didn’t know if he’d even be alive.
“I mean, it was pretty much a nightmare. It just also happened to be real.”
“Yeah, that’s a good way to put it.” He turned his head to look at her finally, and his face was still so bruised and swollen. “I know I should probably thank you, and I want to, but I just woke up this morning and I’m still coming to terms with being about half a man now.”
“You’re not half a man.”
He rolled his eyes and went to move his arm as if he was going to wave her words away, but then he hissed. “Ow. You know what I mean. Let me grouse for a bit. I don’t need inspirational words quite yet.” He let out a bitter chuckle. “It figured, I finally get to be in breeches again, and I can’t even fill them.”
“I’m… I’m sorry.”
“No, you don’t have to be sorry. I… I wouldn’t be alive if you hadn’t done what you did. It’s just…” He took in several deep breaths. “It was easy to accept that in the underground, where everything was dark and hot, and we were dying. But now that I’m up here, in the light, it’s slightly harder to come to terms with.”
Ukrah nodded, crossing shakily to sit in one of the healer’s chairs beside his bed. She had to be careful, because once Voirdr had realized that she was awake, he had refused to be separated from her for even a moment and had taken to winding against her legs insistently. Normally, it wouldn’t matter, but she was still weak herself, only having been switched back to solid foods the day before.
Maybe one day she wouldn’t end up horrifically injured every half a year or so, but she certainly hadn’t reached that point in her life yet.
“So, we really saved a whole bunch of witches, didn’t we?”
Ukrah nodded. “A little over a hundred, from what I hear. Dille and the others are taking care of them at the rebuilt palace and Witch Academy. They’re running out of rooms very quickly over there, I hear.”
“Yeah, well, it seems like more and more of us are popping up everywhere. Except…you said we aren’t witches?”
“Well, we may be. For all we know, it’s dragon blood that allows us to be vessels.”
“Wait, you’ve said that before, haven’t you? What are vessels? Why are we different?”
“Hold on, one question at a time. Look, maybe it’s a little soon to dump this all on you, but basically, before the Three came and upset the balance of the world, there were these old spirits that basically made sure the cycle of life continued uninterrupted. They weren’t gods, per se, but more energies tied to the magic of our world. Think of them as sort of…facets of our world’s personality.
“Well, with our realm cleansed of everything that had altered it, the old spirits are trying to be reborn. But they can’t just pop into being on their own. They need vessels, for us to introduce them to the world and let them integrate through us, then do…something, I’m not quite sure, to unite all of us and bring them out again.”
He blinked at her, and his look was so incredulous that she almost laughed. “So… There’s a big angry spirit inside of me from thousands of years ago? I’m basically a host?”
“Essentially, yes.”
“I don’t like that. I want it out.”
“It doesn’t work like that.”
“It doesn’t? Why not? Who said?”
Calm down, Vessel. It is a great honor to be chosen as a savior of this world.
Marcellin didn’t like that, and he lurched upward as if he was going to sit up. But with only one arm to push himself, he overcompensated and ended up pushing himself forcefully to the side.
Crispin was inside of the door within a breath, catching him and helping him right back into the bed. Ukrah sighed, rubbing at her temples. While she definitely appreciated his intervention, it seemed a bit invasive that he was standing there just outside the door. But while he had agreed to give the two of them privacy, he had refused to be more than a couple yards away.
“Hey, there you are. It’s gonna be okay. Just try to rest for right now, though. You’ve been through a lot.”
“And who the hell are you?” Marcellin snapped.
“Oh, me? Just one of the many folks Ukrah has saved. I just happened to be lucky enough to get to stick around.”
The one-armed boy looked to Ukrah uncertainly, and she just shrugged. “This is Crispin. He helped me when I first came to the civilized lands. Without him, I wouldn’t be here.”
“She’s modest,” the blond said with a laugh. “She definitely would have found a way to survive one way or the other.”
“I…see. I would say well met, Crispin, but that’s definitely not the case.”
“Don’t worry. I don’t take it personally. Anyway, I’ll give you your space again if you like.”
“What’s the point, if you’re just gonna wait in the hall anyway? At least sit down.”
Crispin just gave him his charming smile, the same one that she saw him use on Mrs. Kaldonner to get more dark meat every time she roasted a bird. “Thanks, don’t mind if I do.” After a moment, he went on, “So, I know I’m not a fancy vessel like the rest of you, but I do have a theory.”
Ukrah looked to Crispin in surprise, not having expected him to speak and certainly not anticipating that. “A theory?”
“Yeah.”
Oh, the jester has a theory? I’m sure this will be just as informative as his stories on the kraken.
“Hey, you,” Marcellin said, looking at the bird. “You’re too small to be such a cad, so shut up for a bit.”
Ukrah didn’t know it was possible for a desert finch to look so affronted, but he absolutely did.
“Thanks, friend. I think we just get used to the bird’s sourness. Side effect of being a powerful, enchanted being stuck in a tiny body.”
“I can see that,” Marcellin said, giving the blond boy a look that seemed half-amused and half-exasperated. “By all means, enlighten us on your theory.”
“Well, I think there are a lot of people who could be vessels. Hundreds, maybe even thousands. Something about all of you has the potential to be called on by a spirit, but something specific triggers it.”
That made sense to Ukrah, and she found herself growing more interested. “What could trigger it?”
Crispin licked his lips. For someone who always loved being the center of attention, he didn’t seem to know what to do with it in such a serious situation. “Well, to be perfectly frank, I think it’s death.”
“Death?”
“Yeah. Death. I think all of you were supposed to die, and it was that moment that allowed a spirit to go into you.
“See, it doesn’t make sense to me that these old spirits would just usurp a person’s life when that was exactly what was done to them. If anything, that would be the exact opposite of what they want to do.
“So, there has to be some sort of reason they would do that. And looking at all of your stories, I’m beginning to think that it’s because you all should be dead.” He looked to Ukrah. “You should have died that night at the stake. No ifs, ands, or buts.”
“Wait, what about a stake?”
But Ukrah just shrugged again. “My village found out I was a witch before I even knew and tried to burn me at the stake one night.”
“What? Are you serious?”
“That doesn’t seem like something to joke ab
out.” She thought back to what he had said to her in the underground prison. “That night, when you fought that man in the barn, you were supposed to die then too, right? He stabbed you in the neck.”
Marcellin’s eyes widened. “Yeah… I suppose I was.”
“Maybe that’s when the old spirit entered you, and it kind of went dormant until the night we helped the witches escape.”
They were silent for a moment while they all thought over this new revelation. Then Ukrah started thinking out loud.
“I wonder if Helena had an experience like that. She was awakened long before we ever got to her.”
“Helena?”
“Another vessel,” Ukrah explained. “The spirit of happiness and comfort basically. All that’s bright and sunny and wonderful. They’ll probably pull her in here soon enough to help you get on the up and up.”
“Wow, no wonder you have a complex.”
Ukrah laughed. “Yeah, exactly. Now you get it.”
“I think I’m starting to. Look, I don’t know about all of this vessel business, but I’m pretty sure I trust all of you.”
“Thanks, Marcellin,” Crispin answered. “We’re here for you. I know you don’t really know us from anyone else, but we look out for each other. You know, like a disjointed little family.”
Crispin said it much better than Ukrah could, but she smiled too, glad that the tension was ebbing. “Your only job now is to rest and recover. Then we can worry about vessels and destiny and the like.”
“Sounds like a plan.” He settled a bit before shifting uncertainly. “So, uh, I know I just woke up, but do either of you know if the healers said anything about getting me some food?”
Crispin laughed outright at that. “Alright, I’ll go see what I can do.”
11
Celebrate While Able
“I can’t believe that we’re having a nameday celebration,” Ukrah muttered while she carefully walked down the stairs.
It was only a week and a half since she had arrived from their sudden rescue of the witches, and she had been surprised when Eist had continued with their nameday planning like nothing was amiss.
At first, Ukrah was a bit mystified by the whole thing and wanted to tell the god-woman that it was more than a little unnecessary. But then she realized that the celebration was just as much for Eist as it was for her and Crispin. A sort of grab at normalcy that she had been denied for so long in her life.
So Ukrah hadn’t said a thing and just focused on healing.
“I would complain about the fact that I’m being carried down the stairs like a babe,” Marcellin said from behind her, “but I’m so glad to be out of that room, you could probably toss me down the stairs in a sack and I’d still be pleased.”
Athar, the man carrying the boy, laughed at that. If there was one thing Marcellin really had going for him, it was that he was able to crack the driest of jokes that made almost everyone laugh. Ukrah had gotten to know him pretty well in their time healing—he was her age, had an ardent love of cats, and hated being pitied more than almost anything else.
“I’m no healer,” Athar said with his low, rumbling mirth. “But I’m pretty sure th-that might negate a whole lot of the healing you’ve just got done.”
“I’ll trust your judgement on that.”
They made it to the bottom of the stairs and down the hall to the relatively modest party. Unlike their first one, there were even fewer folks there, with just Ale’a, Eist’s grandfather, Elspeth, and Dille as the only guests from outside the manor. But Ukrah didn’t mind. It felt safe, secure. She didn’t have connections with many people out of her newly-formed family, and having a bunch of strangers around when she was so vulnerable would have made her feel unsettled.
As it was, the crowd was just the right size.
The festivities kicked into gear quickly, with both Crispin and Ukrah being given sashes and crowns made of flowers and twigs while Mrs. Kaldonner explained the rules of several different games. Blind Shepherd, Fool’s Choice, and something that Ukrah didn’t quite catch the name of.
There were Braddock’s biscuits despite the man not being there, a delicious-looking roast, and, of course, plenty of fruit. Ukrah had brightened at that. Perhaps it was strange, but it made her feel particularly wanted that those closest to her understood that she wasn’t much for baked sweets and that her favorite food was definitely all the amazing fruits that grew in the civilized lands.
It was fun, it was sweet, and for a moment, it was easy to forget everything else outside the walls. The witches, the hunters who wanted to harm them, the vessels, the old spirits, and everything else. For just a moment, there was just each other.
Granted, a good chunk of her contentment was probably due to Helena and all the mending she had done on their clothes, but Ukrah wasn’t objecting to her latent ability.
The whole affair was lovely, going until much later into the night than Ukrah was used to, and in the end, she curled up on one of the settees next to Marcellin’s custom-built chair.
“Hey there, you asleep?” he whispered to her just when she was about to drift over the edge of consciousness.
“Almost,” she murmured, barely able to hear the two of them over the happy chatter and music. Was that Athar singing? Funny, he didn’t have a stutter when he sang. That didn’t seem right.
“These are good people here. You’re all good people.”
“Glad we convinced you,” she answered drowsily.
“Yeah…” He licked his lips, and she gained enough consciousness to gather that he was about to say something serious. “I wasn’t completely certain at first, but I know that now… I probably should have told you this from the moment I said I trusted you, but, well, I guess I wanted to be sure I could trust the rest too.”
“What?” she asked, concern blooming in her middle as she sat up. What could he possibly have to say to her that made him look so uncertain?
“I know what Roaric was looking for. I know why they’re going after all of the witches.”
“You do?”
He nodded. “They said there were special witches, different from everybody else, and if they found them, they could bring the Three back. I wasn’t sure at first, but the more I think about it, the more I’m certain that they know exactly what the vessels are and are looking for them too.”
“Oh sh—”
Deception
Rise of the Black Dragon, Book 6
1
It Starts with a Bang
Ukrah was thrown out of bed, the heavy and hard weight of Voirdr coming down right on top of her. She let out a breathless gasp, her mind spinning and trying to figure out exactly what was going on.
She had been dreaming of summer, of swimming in a pond again with her friends around her. It had been peaceful and quiet. So naturally, it was quite a scramble to be suddenly enveloped in a cacophony.
Another massive boom and she was thoroughly rattled. As it faded, she fought to her feet and scrambled to the window.
She had seen and experienced many things, but she didn’t think any of them prepared her for what she saw out in the night.
Fire, first of all. Far too similar to her dreams. It flared virulently and viciously not too far from where she stood, shooting into the air and sparking in wide arcs. She could feel the heat of it across her face.
And that was probably because it was the new palace itself that was burning.
Ukrah stared, her heart seeming to stop in her chest, as she took it in. The castle was shaking with parts crumbling to the ground while flames shot up into the air through newly-created gaps in the stone. It was an assault. An all-out assault that was impossible. Impossible!
And yet it was happening. She could hear screams, ever-so-faintly, and the whinnying of horses. Narrowing her gaze, she saw riders charging at the beleaguered building. What more damage could they hope to do? The new crown of the city was already alight!
Ukrah scrambled to get clothes, her eyes on
the window as she threw on hose and a winter robe. Although the coldest of months had passed in the sixth moons since the latest vessel had been found, cold still lingered in the earth and night air. She wouldn’t be any good to anyone if her hands were too cold to hold a weapon or throw a punch, and with Voirdr continuing to go through his period of rapid growth, her magic was just as fiddly as ever.
This is not good.
She didn’t know if Tayir was somewhere just outside her window or inside her room, but she nodded anyways. “No. It’s not. They’ve assembled enough forces to launch a full attack on the building that houses much of our new government. They didn’t even try for stealth.”
No. They really didn’t. Although I am curious what exactly you expect to do about it?
“I can’t just do nothing!” she objected as Voirdr wound around her, nearly knocking her over. In the six moons that had passed, he had grown taller, his back reaching her chest and his head growing both wider and taller. But even in that time, he had yet to learn not to get underfoot and trip her at the worst times.
Her door banged open and Crispin rushed in, dressed in just his nightclothes. She would have asked where he was in the middle of the night if there wasn’t a generous smear of Mrs. Kaldonner’s freshly-made apple jam across one of his cheeks. “What’s going on!?”
I’m not telling you to do nothing. I know that’s a lost cause. But you live in a house with the chosen woman and her husband. Perhaps at least a little bit of a plan or advice might be in order before rushing in.
For once, he actually had a point, because Cassinda erupted in, dagger in hand, with Eist and Athar not even a breath behind.
“There’s an attack,” Eist said, her voice strangely calm considering that her eyes were wide and her face was ashen. Her hands were trembling, so much so that it was the large Athar who was carrying their little girl. “On the palace. The palace that we’re still not done rebuilding.”